


Steve, Bucky, Thor, and the Drunken Experience™

by plaguedbynargles



Series: The Stucky Experience [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Clubbing, Crack, Drunk Sex, Drunkenness, Fluff and Crack, Hangover, M/M, Parkour, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pining, Public Nudity, not a main point tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-19 12:01:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7360624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plaguedbynargles/pseuds/plaguedbynargles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Bucky miss having the ability to get drunk. Thor has Asgardian wine and a plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Steve, Bucky, Thor, and the Drunken Experience™

**Author's Note:**

> THE TRADEMARK SYMBOL IS IRONIC. IT'S IRONIC. DON'T SUE ME.
> 
> Ah yes, and one more thing: In this the headcanon is that Loki was forced into exile on Midgard once the whole "impersonating Odin" thing from the end of TDW was done and resolved. So it's implied here that that's what happened. :) I know I made it up :) It's for the fic jus t leave it.

               It had all started with a misunderstanding. And, because Thor was involved, it had been a misunderstanding of godly proportions.

               Steve should have _known_ there was a hidden meaning to that little twinkle in the god’s eye when he’d mentioned his “fond” relationship with Bucky. That had been the very _last_ thing on his mind! Lately, as more and more of Bucky’s former personality started to show itself with HYDRA’s decreasing influence over his mind, he’d started to get more of his old desires back. Things like wanting to go out dancing at night and drinking. Never excessively—Buck had always been a real classy guy—but enough to have fun.

               If he hadn’t been able to handle that stuff in the forties, Steve hadn’t had a doubt that he’d be hopeless in _this_ decade, where people walked around half naked and the drinks were sweet enough to keep you coming back without knowing you were wasted. Not that he had a big problem with the people that did it, but that kinda social scene would never be his speed. Plus, he and Bucky couldn’t get drunk anymore…or so he’d thought.

               When Steve had pointed this out to a whining Bucky, Thor had overheard, and looked at them thoughtfully.

               “Perhaps I ought to leave this information private, but,” the god had leaned in conspiratorially, “It seems you are in need of help.”

               Bucky had turned around, raising an eyebrow, “That we are, big fella. You got a solution?”

               “When my brother was exiled here for impersonating Odin,” Thor had explained, “He needed a way to acquire currency. For the most part, he used magic and trickery, but sometimes he would sell Asgardian goods as a way to supplement his income. Primarily Asgardian mead.”

               Bucky’s jaw had dropped, and he’d looked from Steve back to Thor, “You think we can get drunk off Asgardian booze?”

               Thor had shrugged.

               Bucky had turned to Steve, “You think it’s worth a shot?”

               From the other room, Sam’s distant call of “Was that a fucking _pun?_ ” could be heard.

               “Loki ran an underground Asgardian _drug_ trafficking service?” Steve had narrowed his eyes, but Thor had only shrugged.

               “He’s adopted. Ordinarily, I would refrain from sending anyone to the place he’d been selling it to, however, I’ve seen your fondness for one another,” Thor had smiled warmly, “And any worthy warrior deserves to get drunk on good mead now and again. If I mention Loki to them, they will give as much of their supply to you as you want,” he’d looked sad for a moment, “They both fear and revere him.”

               His doubt must have been obvious on his face, because Thor had walked over and slapped Steve on the shoulder.

               “Do not feel guilty, noble one. Any mead you take from their supply will be mead taken away from unsuspecting Midgardians who may not be capable of withstanding its effects.”

               Between that, and the pleading look currently on Bucky’s face, Steve had been incapable of arguing.

(o0o0o0o0)

               And so, Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes found themselves staring, mouths agape, at a darkened room filled with gyrating, sweaty bodies and a thrumming beat that seemed to vibrate Steve’s bones.

               Thor’s grin slightly faded as he realized Steve and Bucky were not staring because they were happy. Steve, personally, wasn’t sure what emotion he was feeling. He was just impressed with the lack of a single woman in this club. Bucky was surprised that this wasn’t somehow breaking any _laws._

Steve looked at Bucky with widened eyes, and they had a silent conversation that seemed to go:

               _Did YOU know he would take us to a gay bar??_

_No!_

Apparently, there had been a slight misunderstanding, but Thor was having none of that.

               “Come,” Thor started to lead them inside, smiling again.

               “OH um actually, Thor…”

               “I just remembered that I have to, uh…”

               “I think I left the stove on, you know how JARVIS gets…”

               “…have to go get my hair cut…”

               They were well into the bar by the time Bucky got that last one out. In other words, in too deep to leave. Resigned and uncomfortable in many different ways, they followed a seemingly oblivious and perfectly content Thor to the bar, where he muttered something to a bartender whose expression very quickly changed from sexually intrigued to terrified. He scurried into a back room, and quickly returned with three large glasses of what must have been Asgardian mead, just as Steve and Bucky took a pair of seats next to Thor.

               “You guys need another round,” the bartender’s gaze lingered on Steve’s biceps, “just give me a holler.”

               Steve flushed. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to being wanted as much as the serum made him wanted, by _any_ gender.

               Bucky stopped glaring at the bartender just in time to smile at Steve when he turned around. He raised his glass, “To Asgardian mead.”

               “To Asgardian mead,” Steve and Thor repeated in completely opposite tones.

               Steve wasn’t buzzed after one drink, but after three, he definitely felt something. He remembered being drunk before the serum, and this was exactly the sensation.

               “You don’t, uh,” Steve heard the man Thor had been chatting with for the past few minutes say, “wanna get outta here, do you?”

               “Ah, my friend,” Thor wrapped a _ridiculously_ huge bicep around the poor man while he finished off his drink, “I understand your meaning, but I, as they say, do not swing that way.”

               He slammed his glass on the counter, barely avoiding shattering it, and bellowed his customary “Another!”

               “What about you two?” the man in question, Asian with large, thick framed glasses and a jaw that could cut cheese, turned to Bucky and him. Steve’s heart jumped into his throat. “Either of you interested in dancing?”

               Steve, flustered, waved him off and took a very large drink of mead. He almost fell out of his chair when Bucky, inexplicably, said yes.

               “Buck-!”

               But Bucky had taken the fucking _model_ ’s hand, and was allowing himself to be led off to the dance floor, only stumbling once on his way there. He turned around and winked at Steve before giving his full attention to his partner.

               _Partner._

               What the fuck? Steve was pretty sure they’d come here together. As _friends._ Bucky was no fairy, and neither was he, and even intoxicated, that was the truth. What was Bucky doing dancing with that guy when Steve was right _here_? He’d had the impression that this would be like all their nights dancing in the forties. Bucky would snag a couple of dates for them, and they’d spend the vast majority of the night talking to each other.           

               Now that _cad_ ’s hands were on Bucky’s _hips_ , and he wasn’t the only one touching Bucky. The way the crowd was writhing together to the beat, there were lots of people brushing up against him or grinding against him the way this joker was.

               And Bucky was _loving it_. It took Steve a moment to realize he’d been watching Bucky’s lower half for a rude amount of time. He went to take another swig of mead, to realize that it was all gone. He slammed it down on the table Thor-style.

               “Another!”

               Thor turned around to pull Steve into his conversation with a small group at the bar, cheering Steve. He listened while the god boasted of his many battle conquests for several minutes, and everyone nodded and smiled, mostly looking at his biceps, with a few asking questions.

It seemed even the God of Thunder was getting a bit tipsy.

“Did you know,” Thor turned them in the other direction on their bar stools after the group had dispersed into their own conversations, “That my brother once disguised himself as you as a joke?”

“Me?” Steve raised his eyebrows, wondering what about him stood out to Loki. Loki was a bit off, sure, but that didn’t stop Steve from wondering how he would look in his uniform.

“Quite!” Thor confirmed with a loud guffaw that slowly started to die down as Steve turned to look at Bucky, who was no longer dancing, at least.

               He was, however, lip locked with another man. Someone completely _different_ from the one he’d been dancing with a minute ago.

               “Steve-” Thor started to talk, but Steve set down what must have been an eighth glass of Asgardian mead (he’d chugged three after sighting Bucky again), and swung himself clumsily into the god’s lap, wrapping a leg around his massive body, tangling his hands in his blond locks, and pushing their lips together into a sloppy kiss.

(o0o0o0o0)

               Bucky wasn’t certain how he’d ended up making out with another man tonight, but he _certainly_ wasn’t complaining. He was sweaty and energized and buzzed as hell off this Asgardian booze, and he didn’t want to stop any time soon. He ground his hips against those of his current partner, slipping a bit of tongue into his mouth and feeling the familiar warmth of lust pooling at the pit of his stomach.

               When he pulled away for air, it became glaringly obvious how drunk he truly was, because in no reality was it possible that he was seeing Steve Rogers making out with Thor at the bar.

               He couldn’t help it. He burst out into hysterical, side splitting laughter.

               “What is it?” his current dance partner asked, making Bucky only laugh harder.

               “Roger—Rogers is…” Bucky gestured vaguely towards the bar before doubling over once more.

               “You’re adorable.” Tears were streaming down Bucky’s face, but he assumed he was being grinned at from what he _could_ see.

               “Nah, _you’re_ ,” Bucky snickered, “You’re _more_ , sweetheart.”

(o0o0o0o0)

               “Steve!” Thor chided after forcing him off, “What would your dear one think? He’s right there; he’ll see you!”

               “You know what?” Steve slurred, just a little, “I kinda want him to see.”

               Thor stared at him, “You know I have Jane. I cannot be a part of any sort of display…” he stopped Steve from reaching for more booze, “And I think you’ve had enough.”

               Bucky’s hands were now in the back pockets of his dance partner’s jeans.

               “Actually,” Steve signaled for another drink, “I haven’t nearly had enough.”

               Someone sidled up next to him, “I can help with that,” said a familiar voice. It took Steve a minute to place the suggestive tone.

               _“Wade?”_

               “No, it’s Loki, here to trick you into having ungodly sex with me,” he quipped, “Yes, it’s me. How much of that shit you been drinking?”

               “Not many,” Steve answered, unaware that the wording of the answer proved how false it truly was, “Are you…? Are you here a lot?” Was _everyone_ gay but him?

               Wade shrugged, “Like almost everyone else, I need my weekly dose of dick. Seems like Bucky’s making up for a few centuries worth.”

               Steve almost spat out his drink, “It’s a few _decades_ , you know.”

               “Whatever,” Wade rolled his eyes, “If you’re here to get drunk, and it looks like you are, then it’s best we get that stick out of your ass and replace it with something else.”

               Steve blinked, ignoring how strangely aroused he was by that sentence. Actually, right now he was aroused by everything. It must have been the mead.

               “Mmkay.”

(o0o0o0o0)

               Bucky let his new companion lead him off the dance floor, grinning like a doofus all the while, and soon found himself practically bent over backwards over the bar, locked in an intense kiss. He bit Steve’s lip and giggled.

               “I always _knew_ you were sweet on me, you know,” Bucky slurred, taking a few heavenly minutes to explore Steve’s mouth with his tongue.

               “Mmhm. I really like you.”

               “Love,” Bucky placed brief kisses in between his words while he laced his fingers through Steve’s hair, “Your. Hair. S’ yellow like…” he broke down into giggles again, “sunshine. Punk.”

               “You’re so cute.”

               Bucky undid a button on Steve’s shirt, nipping at his neck, “’Nd you’re so soft, Stevie.”

               “Um…my name’s Johnny.”

               Bucky chuckled, “Mmhm, that’s a good one Steve.”

               “Okay, uh,” Bucky felt himself get shoved away, “You’ve had too much to drink. I am not Steve.”

               Bucky frowned, then returned to smiling like a moron.

               “Nah, you’re…then why would your…your _hair_ is the same, you ain’t foolin me, punk.”

               “I…don’t mean to be rude,” Steve (?) said, holding up his hands, “But I’m pretty sure the guy you’re looking for is over there.”

               Blearily, Bucky followed Steve (?)’s finger to where _actual Steve_ (!) was dancing on a table, shirtless, while what must have been hundreds of dollars were being tossed at him. Nearby, Thor was wearily taking long, deep gulps of mead.

               “M’ friends…” Bucky stumbled off in their direction, but unsteadily spun around to face Johnny after a moment, “’Nd don’t you go thinkin I’m a fairy or…something…because I ain’t about that life.”

               “…Wouldn’t dream of it.”

(o0o0o0o0)

               Thor very early on that night, had realized his miscalculation, but it wasn’t until Steve Rogers had kissed him that this miscalculation began to fuel an unquenchable thirst for mead. He hadn’t entirely expected a Midgardian, even an _enhanced_ one, to be able to keep up with his drinking. What else had there been to do but join in on the fun and keep drinking himself when both Bucky and Steve continued finishing glass after glass?

               Now, the room was spinning, Thor was vaguely aware that many other Midgardians had gotten their hands on some of the Asgardian booze (making the place, as Tony would have called it, completely “lit”), Steve was on top of a table dancing suggestively with his companion Wade, twirling his shirt wildly in one hand, and Bucky was stumbling his way over, looking awestruck.

               Wade grabbed Steve’s hips and pulled them up against his body with a hefty thrust, and Steve continued to grind up against him, throwing his shirt into the crowd that had amassed around them. It was caught by (or, landed on), a Bucky Barnes that looked as though he was in some sort of trance. Slowly, he turned to Thor, beaming.

               “Tho…Thor…” Bucky broke down into giggles, hiding his face in his hands, “This is _Steve’s_ shirt.”

               Thor nodded soberly, as though discussing Asgardian tax policy, “Tis.”

               Bucky shook his head, “No, you don’t under…st _and,_ ” he tried and failed to stifle a burp, “Steve _gave_ this to me!” he leaned in very close to Thor, lost his balance, and ended up with a faceful of blond hair, “Do you know,” he whispered, “What that means?”

               Thor looked at him, sincerely intrigued, “No. What does it mean?”

               It took approximately two solid minutes of giggling for Bucky to regain his composure, “I think he _likes_ me.”

               Thor stood up, slamming his hands down on the table and almost breaking it, “ **You shall make sweet love until the moon sleeps** , _”_ he declared.

               Bucky and Thor broke down into hyena-like hysterics after that, although they didn’t entirely remember the reason they were laughing. Perhaps it was because Wade was now making it rain five dollar bills on Steve as he danced. There was an excessive amount of cash sticking out of the waistband of Wade’s pants.

               Slowly, unsteadily, Bucky began to attempt to climb onto the table with Steve. He got one leg onto a chair successfully, but wavered dangerously and ended up needing to take several minutes to catch his balance on the table and gather his bearings, all while Steve’s crotch was swinging precariously close to his head.

               When Bucky finally managed to get himself atop the table, wobbling violently and nearly falling several times, the room seemed like it was spinning at 30 miles per hour around him. His world was a confusing whirl of color and noise, but Steve was in front of him, half naked and sweaty and as beautiful as ever, so he couldn’t really do much but smile.

               Unfortunately, Steve danced like he was at a goddamn Roulette show when he was drunk, so Bucky ended up a bit more unsteady on his feet than was ideal, and he grabbed onto Steve—the only thing _around_ —for support, catching him off balance and resulting in Buck’s stomach jumping into his throat as they careened towards the floor together, loudly smashing a chair in the process.

(o0o0o0o0)

               Bucky woke up on top of Steve, moments later.

               “ _Shhhhhhhhh_ …” Steve cautioned, looking at the wreckage around them, “’F we’re quiet, they won’t catch us.”

               Bucky nodded eagerly, wide eyed.

               “Stevie?”

               “Y…yeah?”

               “You’ve got a great…” Bucky wheezed a laugh, his hands on Steve’s chest, “you’ve got a great rack.”

               Steve laughed, not doing _anything_ to help his current situation downstairs.

               “Mm not a fairy if I like you for your boobs, okay?” Bucky was suddenly very serious.

               Steve let out a Thor-like guffaw, sitting up. Bucky adjusted so he was sitting uncomfortably on Steve’s lap.

               “ _Youuuu_ …” Steve jabbed a finger in Bucky’s chest, “Are objectifying me, _jerk_. ‘N you’re no fairy. Thor’s the one with _magic_.”

               Bucky snorted loudly, awkwardly pulling Steve so they were, in their imaginations, completely hidden underneath the table.

               “ _Shhhhh_ …” Bucky cautioned, “They’ll…” he broke down into giggles again, “They’ll never…never see us.”

                                                                                       (o0o0o0o0)                                                                             

               When Thor dragged Steve out from under the table, he was grungy, disheveled, and pantsless, blinking blearily at his surroundings. Bucky, who Wade helped to his feet, was about 200 times worse, save for the fact that he had all his clothing mostly on, while Steve’s pants were nowhere to be found. Maybe they were up Bucky’s ass. They’d never know.

               Wade bit back a giddy laugh. By the end of this night, he would have enough blackmail to pay for half a college education. _That_ would be a fun present for Peter on Christmas. Not quite as fun, however, as a video of what was about to happen.

               “Brothers,” Thor boomed, “I am surprised at you.”

               Steve and Bucky stared.

               “Wade has just informed me of the,” Thor stifled a burp, “timeless ritual of parkour, performed by Midgardian warriors in a test of comradery and strength.”

               Dimly, Wade wondered if Thor was slightly more sober than he seemed, and was just taking the piss at this point. He _was_ a straight guy in a gay bar that his adopted brother had been essentially running a drug ring through with two completely shitfaced 90 year old lovers. And _Wade_ , on top of it all. That had to fucking suck.

               But, life sucked, and what better to make it suck a little bit less than laughing at a friend’s stupid drunken decisions? Thor must have overheard the word parkour somewhere, because when he’d asked Wade about it, well…you didn’t turn down an opportunity like that, did you?

               Was Wade an asshole? Yes. Was he going to relish every moment of this? Yes.

               “Park…or?” Steve asked slowly.

               “Yeah,” Wade said breezily, “It’s a 21st century thing. All the guys do it. So if I do this,” without preamble, Wade took a running start away from them, vaulted over a table, and only took out three shot glasses before landing on his feet and spinning to face the group once more, “It’s PARKOUR!” He punctuated the last word with a sassy pose and finger guns. Steve’s eyes widened, but Bucky’s narrowed.

               “Woah woah woah…” he slurred, one finger in the air, “This seems dangero-”

               “Sure it _might be_ ,” Steve interjected, doing Wade’s work for him, “But we _wanna_ fit in with the times, don’t we, Buck?”

               It was impossible for Bucky to argue with that logic.

               “PARKOUR,” Thor thundered, ripping his shirt open and sprinting (as fast as a drunken god can sprint) out the doors of the club, running up the hood of a car, and jumping off its roof.

               Steve didn’t want to be left out, so he took his shirt (which had been poorly rebuttoned by Bucky) off, too, throwing it to the ground and stomping on it for good measure. He now only wore tight fitting underwear and socks. Bucky suddenly lost his balance and clung to Wade for support, eyes on Steve, who proceeded to run to the other side of the parking lot, swing semi-gracefully from a low hanging tree limb, and fly over a small brick wall into the street.

               “PARKOUR!”

               It took Steve the longest out of the group to realize that his underwear had snagged on the tree, and he was now, in fact, completely naked.

               “America has a great dick,” Wade appraised.

               Bucky nodded tearfully, “Yeah,” he sniffed, “he sure does.”

               Not wanting Steve to feel uncomfortable, Thor tore off the remains of his clothing before running up a wall and backflipping so that he stood on a nearby bench.

               “PARKOUUUR,” Thor was swaying slightly, and Wade’s phone was still recording while Bucky cried on him about how the god was pretty enough to steal Steve from him.

               Wade had slight difficulty holding the camera steady when Rogers swung himself around a streetlight stripper style, waggling his eyebrows.

               “ _Parkourrr,”_ he lilted, practically making Bucky faint into Wade’s arms.

(o0o0o0o0)

               Tony had never really been the jogging type, but every once in a while, if he happened to wake up unusually early, he liked to go out while the world was still quiet and dark to run for 30 minutes and clear his head. He was nowhere near Rogers’s militant style of running, evenly paced, long distance, and relentless—Tony had no shame stopping to walk if he got too tired—but he did enjoy the feeling of doing something banally useful with his free time. He liked the occasional passerby giving him that look as they went past that said, _“Look at that guy. Now that’s a guy with his life together.”_ Sue him.

               Today was a jogging morning. The sun had barely begun to rise, the air was sweet, and the birds were starting to sing. He could barely even hear much traffic, for New York.

               He _did_ hear a resounding crash from not too far away, followed by cackling, uncontrollable laughter, but it sounded like some kids being stupid. Nothing to worry about. Tony continued on his merry way, rounding a corner and allowing his mind to wander to an idea that Bruce had emailed him about last week. He really should get back to him on tha—

               Was that _Rogers?_

Tony’s eyes went wide and his jaw went slightly slack as the blond took a running start, leapt off a short brick wall encasing a variety of shrubs and one small tree, flailed for a moment in midair, and smashed into a small convertible bug, setting off the car alarm.

               Not far away, Wade Wilson was comforting James Barnes with one arm while holding an iPhone aloft with the other. And…was that _Thor? Why were Rogers and Thor naked?_ Was he truly staring at Steve Rogers’s a—

               Tony never finished his train of thought, because his head collided with a stop sign with a loud, metallic clang, toppling him down like a tree.

(o0o0o0o0)

               Nat slowed to a smooth stop as the light turned red and surveyed the scene around her with a blank expression. A car alarm was wailing, as was Tony Stark, on the ground with his hands over his face, underneath a stop sign. Bucky Barnes was drunkenly throwing punches at Wade Wilson that were so weak that Wade— _Wade_ —almost looked sorry. Steve Rogers was naked and motionless on top of a Bug. Thor looked very confused.

               The light turned green, and Nat evenly turned her eyes back to the road, frowning as she continued on her way to the grocery store.

               Maybe she ought to buy herself a minivan and a Jesus fish, because if she was playing the role of mom for the Avengers, she might as well look the part.

(o0o0o0o0o0)

               Steve was in Hell.

               He was about 90% sure that this was what burning in Hell felt like. Actually, burning might have been less painful than the thundering headache he was currently sporting. He’d tried opening his eyes…once. The intense, stabbing pain that it had brought to his skull had been unthinkable, unbearable, and unrelenting until he closed his eyes again.

               Steve had been hungover before, yeah. He’d been quite the lightweight pre-serum, and Bucky had always teased him when even their dates could manage to keep down more alcohol than him. Steve had never been the type to turn down a challenge, especially coming from Bucky, so he’d more often than not ended up consuming amounts of alcohol that came back to haunt him the next day.

               It had never been like this. Christ, what had he _done_ last night? He remembered he’d gone out for drinks with Thor and Bucky, the music had been loud and the lights had been flashing…they’d had Asgardian mead, so they actually _could_ get drunk…

               Steve really only remembered flashes after that. His head really hurt. Actually, _many_ parts of his body hurt.

               Beside him, someone groaned loudly, and Steve felt the brush of warm skin against his own as they turned over in the bed next to him.

               This was looking bad. Slowly, Steve opened his eyes the smallest crack he could, to see long, blond hair and muscles that made _him_ look like a pipsqueak.

               Steve sat up, narrowly avoiding vomiting due to the wave of pain it brought over him. He blinked blearily, waiting for his tunnel vision to go away.

               “ _Thor?”_

Thor was motionless, sprawled over half of the large bed they were in, and, Steve realized, naked. He was so busy staring that he almost missed the metal arm shakily raised in the air on his other side.

               “Shh,” Bucky hushed weakly from underneath blankets, his voice barely a whisper, “Quiet.”

               Steve nearly gave himself whiplash, glancing from Thor to Bucky and back again before scrambling at for blankets to cover himself with. Why were they all in _bed_ together? Thank God Buck had clothes on, but why the Hell was Thor _naked?_ Why was _he_ naked?

               Steve wasn’t exactly reassured when a discreet glance down at himself revealed that his inner thighs were covered in what could only be hickies.

“ _Bucky_ ,” Steve hissed, “What did we _do_ last night?”

               Bucky was silent, and Steve reached out to shake his shoulder.      

               “ _Buck_.”

               “I saw the video, Steve,” there was something foreboding in Bucky’s voice, and Steve’s imagination immediately conjured up several different equally horrifying scenarios as to what precise variation of video he’d made last night.

               Hadn’t Nat told him about celebrity sex tapes at some point? Oh _God_ , please no. Steve knew he had a tendency to get a little…frisky when he got drunk, but he didn’t think it was _that_ bad!

               Before Steve had a chance to inquire further on this subject, the left half of the room exploded. Or, Tony Stark burst through the door with an even worse than usual _shit eating_ grin on his face, but from the way the noise seemed to ricochet off the insides of Steve’s skull, the sounds seemed about equal.

               “Oh, look,” Stark grinned, “Sleeping Beauty awakens. Bucky and I already chatted.”

               Steve’s head thrummed with pain, “Wha…” he mumbled, his face in his hands, “What video?”

               “Oh, the video!” Tony crowed, clapping his hands for emphasis. Steve raised his head to glare at him, and dimly wondered why the Hell _his_ head was bandaged up. Crazy night out for Stark, too, maybe?

               Steve’s palms had begun to sweat nervously.

               “See,” Tony’s grin was positively _wicked_ , “Nat was passing through town earlier today, and she was _shocked_ to see two more naked bodies performing Parkour than she usually does on a trip to the grocery store.”

               Steve paled. _Naked_? On the _streets?_

               He was acutely aware that Bucky was glaring at him from under the covers.

               “Uhm…” Steve murmured, “What’s Parkour?”      

               “See for yourself,” Tony shoved a bright screen into his face with the smuggest grin known to man, and Steve’s eyes widened as he witnessed himself and Thor, completely naked, drunkenly running and jumping while shouting…Parkour.

               Steve shook his head, “This can’t be rea-”

               He stopped himself as the camera, after a loud _clang_ , panned to Tony, rolling on the ground underneath a quivering stop sign, cradling his head and letting loose a string of obscenities that Steve was certain Loki was laughing at from Asgard. He glanced at Tony’s bandaged head.

               It was real. All of it. Steve wished Clint hadn’t sold his farm. Right now would have been a wonderful time to disappear forever and start a new life with Bucky milking cows.

               At the end of the day though, Nat had filmed, and Steve was pretty sure he was closer with her than she was with Tony. He wasn’t certain if that would help or hurt his case, but with enough persuading, maybe she’d be more likely to delete it or hide it away. Why he couldn’t have kept that plan to himself, Steve had no idea. Instead, he looked to Tony, mirroring his smug little grin, and said:

               “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, Stark, but Nat and I are friends, and-”

               “Oh,” Tony chuckled, “You thought _Nat_ filmed?”

               “Uh...”

               “Sorry, Stevie.”

               Tony stepped aside to reveal a terribly sheepish looking Wade Wilson, and Steve suffered a vibrant flashback to dancing on tabletop together with his shirt off. Suddenly, he vividly remembered the grinding of sweaty bodies against one another, the flashing lights, swinging naked around some sort of a pole…

               He hoped that at least part of that was hallucination from the mead.

               Steve shook his head, ignoring the annoying use of _Bucky’s_ nickname for him, “ _Why_?”

               “It was funny at the time.”

               “ _Funny??_ ”

               “Shhhhh…” Bucky hushed them softly from where he was buried under the covers.

               “Well, mostly I thought you had a great a-”

               “If this footage leaks-!”

               “It _won’t_ ,” Wade waved him off, “Tony, Nat and I are just gonna keep it nice and safe with us until we forget the way the golden light from sunrise looks reflecting off your ass cheeks.”

               “What about _Thor?_ ” Steve shrilled, “He’s the one that hooked us up with the Asgardian mead!”

               “And who didn’t drink it responsibly?” Bucky muttered. Steve glared at him.

               “ _Thank you_ , Binky,” Wade gestured to the angry lump next to Steve.

               “First of all, his name’s _Bucky_ ,” Steve snapped, “Not _Binky_. How can you not know his name after everything that happened last night? I understand we were drinking, but that doesn’t excuse that kind of irresponsibility,” Steve left out the fact that he barely remembered what happened last night. “Second of all, _none_ of us drank responsibly. Third of all, this was mead trafficked by _Loki._ It might have been tampered with-!”

               “Aight, I’m stopping you right there,” Wade held up a hand, “You _knew_ what you were drinking. Plus, you, Borky, and Thor were the only ones drinking last night. I was completely sober, because I don’t need alcohol to have a good time.”

               Steve resisted the urge to vomit, both because of the fact that this lecture was coming from _Wade_ , the most irresponsible person he knew, and because some of that mead was finding its way back up. He kept his mouth tightly shut, and Tony took the opportunity to speak.

               “You can’t play righteous man with us, Rogers,” Tony said triumphantly, “Because now we know the truth. Now we know that deep down, you’re a hot mess just like the rest of us.”

               Bucky mumbled something about what he has to deal with. Steve sunk onto his pillow and groaned.

               Tony shook his head, sighing, “Listen, in all seriousness, feel better. Burnt toast helps.”

               “Will you get us some?” Steve asked.

               “Do I look like a butler?”

               “Tony,” Steve said with dangerous calm, “There will be a reckoning.”

               Stark just laughed, “Alright, well, when you get around to that, gramps, maybe be a little more modest. Don’t need the youth of America pledging allegiance to that ass.”

               Steve, miserable, had no response to that but to bury his face into the pillow beside Bucky’s and hope his headache would subside before he threw up.

               Maybe a life without drinking wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

               “Thor?” he asked moments later, voice slightly muffled by pillow and Bucky’s hair.

               A groan that sounded like the call of a large, agonized buffalo followed.

               “Who…” Steve gingerly touched the inside of his thigh, “Who was I…with last night?”

               The god silently sighed, not looking at Steve, “It is of little importance.”

               But it was very important. At least, to Steve it was. Because from what he’d seen, out of the two people he was currently sharing a bed with, Bucky was the only person who also was sporting the tell-tale marks of wandering lips.

               And, Steve vaguely remembered dark, not light, hair in his face while he’d sucked on someone’s neck. But that could have been anyone.

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you got all the hidden references in this then I love you! ^ _ ^


End file.
